Dream a Little Dream
by SBellesNLondon
Summary: Daniel can't sleep.
1. Dream a Little Dream

Disclaimer: Alas, I don't own Ugly Betty or any of its characters.

Author's Note: This is my first facfic so be nice. Also, please let me know what you think. I'm trying to decide if I should write a sequel. Thanks!

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Daniel Meade--full-time playboy, part-time editor-in-chief of Mode magazine--could not remember the last time he had gotten a good night's sleep and unfortunately it was not because he was too busy making love to Ms. Monday, Ms. Tuesday, or even Mrs. Wednesday. While he always went to bed with the intention of sleeping soundly through the night these plans had yet to come to fruition. Each night, exhausted from a hard day's "whatever," he would crawl under his thousand-count Egyptian cotton sheets and hope to drift off into a much needed and sorely missed deep sleep. But, as soon as his eyes fluttered closed the dreams began. Daniel never had the same dream twice, but each dream seemed to be a variation of the same theme, his assistant, Betty Suarez.

Last night he had dreamt that he and Betty were celebrating their one-year anniversary; whether they were married or simply dating he was not sure. They sat together in the dim light of a nearly burnt-out candle staring deeply into each others eyes. As he looked into their depths he knew that the profound and honest love he saw in them was most assuredly reflected in his own. It had been beautiful in its simplicity.

On the previous night he had dreamt that they were painting a nursery for the child he and Betty were expecting together. He remembered his breath caught as he placed his hand against her swollen belly and felt the soft kicking of the baby from within. He also remembered that at this he had begun to cry.

But not all of Daniel's dreams had been so innocent in nature.

Some nights he dreamt what it would be like to make love to his assistant--sometimes he was gentle, slowing exploring every curve and crevice of her body like an archeologist examining a long-buried treasure. Other times he seemed almost primal; animalistic in his desire to meld his flesh to hers, if only for a brief period of time. These dreams too had been vivid in their own way; often he would wake up with her taste still lingering on his lips, her touch still burning his skin. It was these dreams that left him head to toe soaked in sweat; these dreams that, despite being an expert on all things amorous, left him with an erection he wasn't entirely sure what to do with.

For Daniel the past few weeks had been one long sleepless night--never able to settle back into his restless repose after one of these dreams occurred. Instead, he would find himself lying awake for hours watching a steady stream of images flash across his T.V. screen in high definition. It was only near dawn that he was usually able to drift back to sleep.

As the lost hours passed into lost days into lost weeks Daniel's life became a blur; his inability to sleep effecting his ability to work. But this was not what bothered him most. It wasn't even the dreams; he actually enjoyed them, looked forward to them even. It was the hollow feeling he had when he woke up that affected him most. These dreams afforded him a glace into what could be, but ultimately was not. He knew that he could be happy with Betty and that his dreams could become a reality, but he was afraid. Afraid of how she might react, afraid she might not return his affections, afraid of loosing the best friend he'd ever had. That was what scared him most, what stopped him from telling her how he felt; even if his dreams were a sure sign that that was what had to be done. If Daniel Meade ever wanted to sleep again he would have to tell Betty the truth. But then again he had lasted this long and besides, what were a few more sleepless nights?


	2. You Can't Always Get What You Want

Disclaimer: Alas, I don't own Ugly Betty or any of its characters.

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Betty Suarez was positively sick with worry. Her boss Daniel Meade had called her fifteen minutes earlier insisting that she come over _immediately!_ While she couldn't possibly imagine what could be wrong that he would call her so late she knew that it had to be serious. He hadn't asked her to come over this late since their first days working together when she'd been forced to coordinate the comings and goings of his various "female companions." As her taxi pulled in front of Daniel's building she quickly settled her debt with the driver, dashed past the doorman, who tipped his hat politely, and into the elevator up to Daniel's top-floor penthouse. Breathless, she knocked on his door.

"Come in," a voice called from within.

Upon entering Betty found Daniel sitting on a stylish black sofa--one of the few pieces of furniture that adorned his minimalist apartment. He rested his head in his hands. Worriedly, she rushed to his side. "Daniel, what's wrong? Are you okay? Are you sick? Are you drunk?" she asked spying the half-empty bottle of Dom Pérignon resting on the coffee table. For the first time since she had entered Daniel looked up at her.

"What? No, nothing like that. I just needed to talk to you."

At this Betty became furious. "What! You couldn't tell me whatever it is over the phone?"

Daniel looked down rather sheepishly at his bare feet. He could feel her exasperation with him.

"Look, it's two o'clock in the morning" she said gathering her coat and purse, "You had better tell me what's bothering you, _right now_, because I'd like to go back to bed.

It took Daniel a moment to find the words he was looking for. Finally he said, "I lied to you about why I haven't been sleeping." Betty's eyes grew wide with a mixture of interest and annoyance. "It's not my mom, or my dad, or my sister that's been keeping me awake," he continued, "It's you."

"What? I'm sorry Daniel, but I'm confused. How am _I_ keeping you awake?"

"Well, for the last few weeks I've been having these dreams about you…about us?"

"Us?"

"Yeah…and we're…you know…"

That was the last straw! "You called me over here because you've been having _sex_ dreams? Goodnight, Daniel," Betty said standing to leave.

Daniel grabbed Betty's hand. "Wait, he said, "it's more than that. It's not just sex, although that is a big part of it, it's other stuff too. Like…we're getting married…or having a baby."

Betty sat back down. "Daniel, what are you saying?"

"I think what I'm trying to say, and what these dreams have been trying to tell me, is that…I love you. I love you Betty.

The air was heavy with tension. Betty sat beside Daniel, mouth agape, trying to process what he had just said. It took her a moment to gather her thoughts and even then she had difficulty formulating the words. "Daniel, I…ugh…don't know what to say. This-"

But Daniel cut her off with a kiss. Pulling her to him he pressed his lips against hers searchingly; hoping that he would find the answer to his unspoken question somewhere in the depths of her mouth. When he finally released his grip Betty's face read like a book.

"It's fine," he said. "That told me everything I needed to know."


	3. Lay, Lady, Lay

Betty was lost; hopelessly adrift on a sea of desire. Only moments before Daniel Meade--her friend, her boss--had confessed his love for her and then…he'd kissed her! It was a wanton, almost desperate kiss; she was amazed at his ability to express all of the want and need that had been building inside him in a single gesture. When Betty thought that she would surely run out of breath Daniel pulled away. He looked deeply into her eyes and placed a trembling hand on her cheek.

"It's fine," he had said. "That told me everything I needed to know." Although Betty had not been entirely sure what feelings her response to his kiss might have conveyed Daniel must have known because now he was on top of her.

Daniel kissed Betty passionately, feverishly, reluctant to let her go. His hands roamed over her body frantically trying to memorize the contours of her body in case this was the last time his fingers would be allowed to trace them. A skillful lover, Daniel's hands seemed to be everywhere at once--tangled in the soft cascades of her rich chestnut brown hair, caressing the flawless skin of her youthful face, running over her narrow shoulders, and finally coming to rest on the gentle curve of her waist. Suddenly Daniel drew back, but only to nibble on the supple flesh of her earlobe and blaze a trail of eager kisses down the soft contour of her jaw. Betty seemed helpless against this passionate assault. She moaned in pleasure letting her head fall back against the arm of the sofa granting Daniel better access to the sensitive hollow that lay at the nape of her neck. Betty ran her hands through Daniel's hair languidly as his mouth continued its triumphal march down her body, but then, abruptly, he stopped.

"What's wrong?" Betty asked breathlessly.

Daniel took Betty's face in his hands and tenderly placed his forehead against hers. "Betty…" he said in between gasps, "are you sure…this is what you want? Because…if we keep this up…I won't be able to stop."

Betty had been too enmeshed in pleasure to think seriously about what was happening. She was grateful that Daniel still had enough self-control to ask before they did something they might both regret later. But ultimately, Betty didn't care; she didn't want to think of the potentially dangerous repercussions of what they were about to do. She felt happy, she felt wanted, and moreover, it was Daniel Meade who wanted her…badly.

"Yes," she sighed, "This is what I want. Please, Daniel…"

Without hesitation Daniel resumed his passionate onslaught. Deftly, he removed her simple black bra and was now setting off tiny, little explosions all across her breasts.

"Say it," he demanded in a voice barely above a whisper, but still heavy with desire, "Tell me what you want."

Betty might have been embarrassed were she not so completely lost in sensation; Walter had never asked her what she wanted, let alone to spell it out for him."

"I want you to make love to me," she conceded.

Bingo! It was all Daniel had needed to hear. In a flash he lifted her to her feet and guided her to his bedroom--never breaking the kiss. Delicately, he eased Betty onto the bed and lay on top of her, careful to distribute his weight evenly. Eager to pick up where he had left off Daniel tried desperately to undo the remaining buttons of Betty's blouse but found the task impossible due to the degree at which his hands were shaking. He could not remember the last time he had wanted a woman this badly. Unable to bear the physical pain and mental anguish of being denied her flesh for much longer, Daniel ripped the garment open sending buttons pell-nell across the room.

Betty gasped, "Daniel!"

"I'll buy you a new one," he said, "I'll buy you an entirely new wardrobe, whatever you want!"

Betty couldn't help but laugh. Daniel looked up. "Are you laughing at me Betty Suarez," he asked feigning hurt.

"No, Daniel. I'm laughing with you."

They burst into laughter. It was the first respite they had taken from their passionate kissing and adolescent groping; a moment that was intimate in an entirely different kind of way. A moment of silence passed between them.

"Daniel," Betty said finally, "I think we should wait. Everything's moving so fast."

Tracing a lazy circle on her bare stomach Daniel sighed, "I had a feeling you might say that."

"I'm sorry. Are you angry?"

"Of course not," he said sincerely, "You're absolutely right. I want to take things slow with you. I don't want to mess this up." They were quiet for a moment. "But will you at least sleep with me?"

"Daniel. I just-"

"No, I mean sleep with me. We don't have to do anything. I just want to feel your body next to mine."

Still Betty continued her protestations, "I really don't think that's such a-"

"Please," he implored, "It might help me sleep better."

He was giving her "the look." A look he had crafted over time; a look that he was only able to conjure after meditating on his near-loveless childhood, wasted adolescence, and tumultuous adulthood. A look that alluded to the hurt he had suffered at the rejection of Sofia Reyes and the pain of having seen his brother Alex both buried and resurrected from the grave. It was a look that Betty, nor any other woman, could refuse.

"Fine," she relented, "But just sleeping."

"Just sleeping," he repeated. He smiled victoriously. "I'll, ugh, be right back," he said. "I just need to go…take care of something."

As Daniel disappeared into the bathroom Betty stripped to her undergarments and climbed beneath the plush linens. When Daniel returned he was completely and utterly naked.

Betty shielded her eyes, "Daniel! Where are your pajamas?"

He grinned fiendishly, "Do I look like the kind of man who sleeps in pajamas?"

Betty suppressed a laugh as Daniel crawled into bed beside her. Snuggling close Daniel wrapped his arms contentedly around Betty.

"You're so soft," he murmured, "like the teddy bear I never had." She chuckled again and he nuzzled his face into the velvety-smooth valley between her breasts.

"Goodnight Daniel," she whispered before yielding to the gentle beckoning of sleep.

"Goodnight Betty," he said and for the first time in weeks Daniel Meade, full-time devoted lover, part time insomniac, fell soundly asleep.


	4. Fooled Around and Fell in Love

Author's Note: Be forewarned that this chapter is a little sassy--due to some salty and some more than suggestive language--but not graphic in any way. At least, I don't think so. Also, if you've never heard the song "Fooled Around and Fell in Love" by Elvin Bishop I suggest you track it down immediately; it's exactly what I imagine Daniel and Betty's relationship would be like. Oh and I simply adore reviews so let me know what you think. Thanks a bunch!

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Betty woke the next morning to a golden stream of sunlight flooding into the bedroom, its gentle warmth softly caressing her face. For a brief moment she looked around in confusion--this wasn't her bedroom. Then a familiar arm reached out to pull her closer; a realization suddenly dawned on her. She tilted her head down to see Daniel with his head nuzzled into the crook of her neck. She smiled remembering the events of the previous night that had led her here, not only to Daniel's apartment but ultimately to his bed. "I love you Betty," he had said; that was her favorite memory. It all seemed like a dream. Hours before she had been asleep in her bed in Queens, now she was wrapped snugly in Daniel's arms. Reluctant to break his embrace she sat up, taking note of the time displayed on the clock resting on his nightstand.

"Where do you think you're going?" Daniel asked in a sleepy voice tinged with lust.

Betty smiled, "Good morning, Daniel."

"Good morning, Betty," he replied, eyes still closed, tugging her a little closer.

"We should get up, "she mused. "We're already a half-hour late."

Daniel was fully awake now and busy nibbling hungrily on her neck. "Wouldn't you rather stay in bed," he asked between bites.

"I don't have the day off," she replied.

"Well, as your boss, I hereby give you the day off…and maybe tomorrow."

She giggled, "You don't the day off either."

"Well, as _my_ boss, I hereby give myself the day off too…and maybe tomorrow."

Betty laughed and although she loved their sexy banter she knew that they were needed at the office. "Daniel, we have a project to work on. Besides," she said, her tone particularly naughty, "what could we possibly to do _all_ day?"

Daniel noticed the subtle change in her tone, "Oh, I've got a few ideas."

"You do?"

"Ugh huh." He had moved away from her neck and was now his lips were slowly tracing their way down her collarbone.

"Like what?" she asked.

Daniel looked at Betty with a devilish half-smile, "Wouldn't you like to know."

"Well," Betty said with mock annoyance, "If you're not going to place nice, I'm leaving." Betty made a motion as though to get up but before she could even set a single foot on the cool hardwood floor Daniel grabbed her wrist and pulled her back down.

"Don't…you…dare."

Betty laughed; the kind of laugh women only get when they are in the presence of someone they truly love.

"Come here," he said in a low husky voice.

"Am I in trouble?" she asked innocently.

In a move straight out of the Daniel Meade playbook, he pushed Betty down against the mattress, nimbly rolled on top of her, and began kissing her passionately.

"This," he said pulling down the straps of her bra, "has got to go."

Having dispensed with the bothersome material Daniel began licking his way down her soft swell of her stomach, stopping momentarily to dip his tongue into the curve of her bellybutton.

"I thought we were going to wait," Betty said half-heartedly.

"Were we?" he asked continuing his conquest of her body.

"Yeah."

"Are you sure?"

"Yup."

"Positive?"

"Daniel," Betty laughed, "you're like a dog with a bone!"

He smirked, "Ha ha, very clever. But you know, there are things we can do without…" Daniel didn't bother to finish the sentence but instead decided to show her. He slid beneath the covers and Betty moaned her approval.

"Did Walter ever do this?" he asked.

"Are you kidding?" she panted, hands tangled in his hair.

"It's because he hasn't fucked as many girls as I have."

"Stop."

"What," Daniel asked confused at her sudden change is demeanor.

"Stop!" Betty repeated. She sat up, pushing Daniel off of her and wrapping herself in the rumpled bed sheet.

"Aw, shit. Betty…You know I didn't mean it that way."

Betty had begun picking up her discarded clothes but now stopped to look Daniel in the eye. Her face had already begun to flush in anger.

"What way is that?"

"You know what I mean."

"That I'm just another girl you _fucked!"_ Betty grimaced at the word, Daniel did too. He had never heard Betty utter a curse word in frustration, let alone yell one at him.

"Betty, you're being sensitive."

"Sensitive! Fine, well then I'll just go be sensitive back in Queens."

He couldn't understand how things had gone sour so quickly. It seemed as though every time he took a step forward with Betty, he subsequently took a giant leap back.

"Betty, please, don't go." He hated for her to leave, especially still mad at him. "Let me explain.

"Oh, I think you've said plenty," she said redressing herself. She let out an exasperated sigh when she realized that her blouse was missing most of its buttons.

Daniel observed this too and started to laugh. Betty couldn't help but laugh too.

"Betty…" Daniel stretched his arms out to her. He was giving her "the look."

She relented and came to sit beside him on the bed; she couldn't resist his strong, protective embrace. It was her Achilles' heel.

"You know that's not what I meant," he said resting his cheek against the soft cushion of her hair.

"I know," she said.

"Then what's wrong really?"

"I," she hesitated and then began to cry. Daniel pulled her closer, kissing the top of her head in an effort to comfort her. "I'm sorry," she said wiping away her tears. "It's just that…"

Betty struggled to find the words to convey what she was feeling. How could she possibly tell him that he was Daniel and she was Betty and that that simple fact alone made the chances of this relationship working out nearly impossible? That she had only ever slept with one man, Walter, and that he had bedded nearly a tenth of the women in Manhattan, at least by her conservative estimation, and despite everything he'd told her that still made her self conscious. Where would she find the words to tell him that the same year she'd been voted "Most Friendly" in high school he had been named "New York's Most Toxic Bachelor" by the New York Post's Page 6, and that sent up not just red flags but emergency flares? How was she going to explain that she was quickly falling ass-over-tea kettle in love with him in spite all of the reasons she had just finished ticking off in her head and that if she'd had it her way Calvin Klein would name a perfume after them called "Daniel & Betty Forever" and ever AMEN!

Ultimately, however, Betty decided that Daniel might not appreciate, let alone understand her ramblings and stated simply, "I'm scared."

"I'm scared too," Daniel said. "I'm just as new to this whole relationship stuff as you are, you know, and that's okay. And look I can't promise you that I won't ever say something stupid every time I open my mouth, but I promise, it's not because I don't love you it's just because I'm, well, stupid."

"You're not stupid Daniel."

"Yes, I am. But I want to make this work Betty, I really do. I want this relationship to last."

Betty smiled, "Relationship?"

"Yeah, I'd like to give it a try."

"With me?"

"Yes Betty, with you. But only if you want to be in a relationship with me."

Unable to contain her excitement and unwilling to acknowledge her apprehension Betty pounced on Daniel and planted a kiss squarely on his lips.

"I'll take that as a yes. High five?" he said raising his hand.

"Shut up," Betty replied and kissed him again.


	5. Can't Help Lovin' that Man

Amanda's day had started out much like any other. She had arrived a quarter to nine (her diamond-studded, gold Rolex served as a status symbol rather than a practical necessity) and after turning on her computer and logging onto the phone system she promptly checked her e-mail. There was a staff meeting at eighty thirty (guess she wasn't going to that), an E-alert from Agent Provocateur notifying her that the black satin and lace corset she wanted to order was back in stock, and several messages from the guy she had slept with after the Marc Jacobs party begging her to call him, drop him an e-mail, anything! Delete, open new tab, delete. It was only ten and already she felt overwhelmed. With two or three hours to kill before she could even justify taking a break she decided to make the most of her time. In between answering the phones (that was her job after all) she made a few online purchases, caught up on the latest celebrity fashion faux pas at GoFugYourself, and gossiped with Mark briefly about the other members of the staff ("Can you believe what Betty is wearing? She looks like she escaped from the Bronx zoo!"). She was just preparing to duck out for an early lunch when she saw Daniel round the corner towards her little section of the office. She could have easily avoided him by pretending to step into the ladies room but he hadn't been paying much attention to her lately and well, she missed being objectified. Quickly, before he reached her desk, she tugged down the hem of her too-tight cardigan revealing just enough cleavage to appear sexy, but not vulgar.

"Hey Amanda," Daniel said jogging towards her post at the receptionist's desk, "I'm glad I caught you. Do you have a minute?"

Amanda moved from behind her desk narrowing the distance between them.

"Mmm," she purred, "for you Daniel, I've got ten."

"Um…thanks, but…ugh…I just wanted to ask you a favor."

"Anything," she said grabbing the lapels of his button-down and pulling him alarmingly close.

"I need your help making dinner."

"Since when do you cook?" she asked running a lazy finger down the front of his shirt.

Daniel stepped back. "Actually, it's for a woman."

"Oh," Amanda frowned. "I see. I guess we're done here."

"Amanda, wait" Daniel pleaded. She had already turned back to her desk to finishing collecting her things, but something in his voice (desperation?) made her pause.

"Look," he said, "I'm in a tight spot. I have this friend who's mad at me and I just wanted to do something nice for her, but I don't know how to cook and I remembered that you do."

"This friend, are you dating her?"

"What? Um…no, we're just friends."

Amanda eyed Daniel suspiciously, "I'm blonde Daniel, not stupid."

"Fine," he conceded, "we're dating."

Amanda considered the situation. She could walk away now-leaving Daniel to wallow in his own despair-but curiosity was getting the better of her. "So," she said, hands on her hips in typical Amanda fashion, "who is she?"

"Oh, you don't know her." Daniel rubbed the back of his neck--a dead give away that he was lying.

"Do you want my help or not?"

Grabbing Amanda's arm Daniel pulled her into a side hallway. "If I tell you who it is," Daniel said lowering his voice to just above a whisper, "you have to promise you won't tell."

"You're not dating Angelina Jolie are you? She's already used her voodoo magic on Brad Pitt. She can't have you both!"

"I'm dating Betty."

"What!"

"Keep your voice down," Daniel hissed.

"I'm sorry; I thought you said you were dating Betty."

"I did."

Amanda made a face.

"What's wrong?" Daniel asked.

"I just threw-up a little bit in my mouth."

Daniel sighed, "Amanda, please. I know you don't like her, but it would really mean a lot to me if you helped out."

Amanda couldn't believe that she was actually considering helping him cook what she could only assume was a romantic, apology-dinner (for another woman no less) that would doubtlessly be followed by amazing Daniel Meade apology-sex. Wait. Did girls like Betty put out? She had to and plenty--why else would he be dating that overgrown Chia pet? But that was beside the point. It had only been a few months since Daniel had unceremoniously kicked her from his bed without so much as a second thought. It had taken her weeks to get over their break-up (if you could even call it that) and she still didn't consider herself fully recovered. Even now, despite everything that had transpired, she would do anything to please him, anything to win him back…including this.

Amanda smiled; it took effort, "I would love to help you Daniel."

"What? Really?"

"You sound surprised," she said amused.

"Yeah, well," Daniel said scratching his head, "you said you just threw up a little bit in your mouth."

"Oh, that was so like ten seconds ago. Look, Daniel, despite what you may think I am completely over you and I'm actually really happy that you and Sasquatch found love."

"Um, thanks. I think." There was an awkward paused in which Daniel looked down at his shoes, "So, now what?"

"Meet me here after work. We'll head over to Dean and Deluca."

"Is that a clothing store?"

"It's a grocery store Daniel."

"Right" he blushed, "I'll meet you here after work and ugh, don't mention this to Betty. I want it to be a surprise."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

When all the other employees had left, including Betty, Amanda gathered her winter coat and Juicy Couture purse and walked arm-in-arm with Daniel out into the crisp November evening. They caught a cab to Dean and Deluca's and chatted excitedly on the ride about the ingredients they would buy. Once inside Daniel's senses were immediately overwhelmed by the sight of brightly colored produce, the fragrant smell of freshly-cut flowers, and the sound of customers laughing and talking as they conversed causally. Amanda squeezed his arm reassuringly. She could be sweet…when she wanted to be.

When Daniel confessed that he didn't own any cookware Amanda suggested that they head upstairs to the kitchenware department. Having sufficiently stocked up on cookery, they grabbed a taxi and headed back to his apartment to begin whipping up their culinary concoction.

Daniel and Amanda emerged from their taxi laughing at some past shared joke and gathering their mountains of packages. Anyone who might have witnessed this scene could have easily assumed that the two were just another young, attractive couple in love, returning home to cook a romantic dinner together. However, this was far from the case; Daniel was practically gushing about how excited he was to surprise Betty with a home-cooked meal and Amanda was trying desperately not to appear too jealous or annoyed. In his excitement Daniel had grabbed Amanda's hand, near dragging her down the hall and into the elevator. She knew he did not mean anything by it, but she still considered the gesture a small victory. Upstairs the pair unpacked their purchases-pots, pans, and apron, and a variety of meats and produce-and were soon ready to begin.

"So what are we making," Daniel asked rubbing his hands together eagerly. He had bought a chef's apron along with the pots and pans and Amanda couldn't help but smile at his child-like enthusiasm.

"You look ridiculous," she said.

He shot her a smile that reached from ear-to-ear, "You're just jealous."

Amanda laughed; she had to admit he did look scrumptious in that tight, white apron. But, back to the task at hand, "Okay, well we've got salmon."

"Mmmm…sounds delicious. What else?"

"Some rice pilaf and some fresh vegetables."

"Perfect. And for dessert?"

"Chocolate tortes."

"Betty loves chocolate."

"Yeah," Amanda quipped, "I can tell."

Daniel ignored the jibe. He was in too good a mood to let Amanda's ruthless sense of humor bring him down.

"Let's start with the fish," she said, "It will take the longest to cook."

Daniel was obviously impressed. He had never pegged her as the type of woman who spent much time in the kitchen. "Where did you learn to cook?" he asked, "You seem to really know your stuff."

"I used to date a chef. Cooking was kind of like foreplay."

A very naughty smiled passed across Daniel's lips, "I'm guessing chocolate tortes weren't for dessert."

Amanda smiled back. She liked where this was going.

"How long were you dating?" Daniel inquired in an effort to make polite conversation.

"A few months. But then I fell in love with someone else."

"You never talked about him."

"We didn't really do much talking did we?"

"I guess not."

Daniel chopped the garlic while Amanda sprinkled the salmon with fresh lemon juice and dill. When Daniel had finished mincing Amanda added the garlic to the marinade and added a dash of sea salt and cracked black pepper for flavor. She set it in the oven to cook at 350˚F for thirty-five minutes.

"Do you want some wine?" Amanda suggested grabbing one of the vintage bottles they had purchased.

"Good idea, Daniel said, "I have some glasses in here." He opened an upper cabinet and produced two crystal wine glasses. Amanda had begun chopping the blunt ends of the asparagus spears and brushing the tips with melted butter. "Is there anything I can do to help?" Daniel inquired.

"Why don't you put some water on the stove to boil so we can cook the rice."

That was easy enough, after all Daniel could read, and as he prepared the rice Amanda began setting the table.

"Why are you laughing?" Daniel asked when he heard Amanda chuckle from behind.

"We had sex on this table and that counter and now I'm helping you cook dinner for another woman."

"That is pretty funny," he concurred.

"We had some good times didn't we Daniel?" Amanda asked coming to stand behind Daniel, "too bad they're over."

"Yeah."

"But they don't have to be." Amanda wrapped her arms around Daniel's waist. He turned so that he was now facing her. What he saw in her eyes betrayed her emotions.

"Amanda" he said sympathetically, "I'm with Betty now."

"You keep saying that," she screamed throwing her hands into the air.

"It's because I am."

Amanda tuned back to the table to reclaim her wine glass. She took a large gulp and then poured herself another glassful. "Well how long has this been going on?" she asked indignantly.

"Me and Betty? A while."

"I see," she said. "Then why the big secret? Are you ashamed?"

"No. Betty doesn't believe in mixing business with pleasure."

"And yet she's dating her boss," Amanda said emptying another glass. "She sounds like a woman who sticks to her guns."

"In all fairness I seduced her," Daniel replied, quick to defend his assistant and now lover.

"I'm sure she didn't put up much of a fight."

"Neither did you."

"Oh, touché." Amanda was now drinking straight from the bottle. "So I guess that means you two are, ugh, getting down and dirty?"

"That's personal," Daniel replied knowing that Betty would not like the intimate details of their relationship revealed so that they could become fodder for office gossip.

"Since when did you become so shy? You always talked about that stuff before."

"Betty's different."

"What she doesn't put out?"

"No."

"So she does?"

"I didn't say that either." While Daniel appreciated Amanda's help cooking dinner he was growing tired of her questions; not even the NYPD questioned suspects this thoroughly, or this brutally. "Look," he said finally, "whether or not Betty and I have made love yet is none of your business."

"Is that what the kids are calling it nowadays?" Amanda slurred.

Daniel didn't understand why he had to defend his relationship with Betty to a woman who couldn't even call herself his ex-girlfriend, but he still felt compelled to explain himself. "Betty knows that there's more to me than just my big…ego. She respects me as a person and I respect her."

Amanda was tired of this crap. Maybe it was the wine or maybe it was the months of loneliness and pent-up sexual frustration, but she could no longer hold onto the little bit of self restraint she had managed to cling to. "This is real life Daniel," she screamed, "not an after school special! Men like you don't date girls like Betty unless they're getting something out of it."

Daniel was finding it difficult to steady his temper as well. "She's not a girl. She's a woman."

"Yeah, I bet you're responsible for that!" she spat. "Is she good in bed Daniel? Better than me?"

Where had this come from? One minute they were cooking and making jokes about the past. The next they were engaged in a screaming match. "Amanda. Stop," Daniel said regaining his calm. "I thought you were happy for me and Betty."

"I'm sorry, I lied. Surprise!"

"Then why are you here? What is this about?"

"This is about being honest with yourself, "Amanda said swinging the empty wine bottle at Daniel. "Do you really see a future with Betty? I mean look at her!"

"I don't care what she looks like!"

"Obviously!"

Daniel had had enough. "Get out," he said turning around to attend to the pot of rice which was almost boiling over. He lowered the heat to a simmer.

Amanda was growing frantic. "Daniel I love you. I never stopped loving you!" she confessed. "Please Daniel, look at me."

"I think you should leave. I can finish cooking dinner on my own."

"Why? Why are you doing this?

He turned around, "Because I don't love you! We slept together. That's it. Having sex is not the same thing as a relationship. Jesus, I don't even think I know your last name."

Amanda kissed him--a final desperate measure. His lips were warm but unyielding. She pressed her body hard against him but again there was no response. Her mind raced as it searched for a sign that his body remembered what his mouth refused to acknowledge. Nothing. As he pushed her away she looked into his eyes searchingly. His blue eyes were cold; instead of the bright warmth that had once dwelled there she now saw only pity and revulsion.

"Can you really tell me that you didn't feel anything?" she pleaded.

"I'm sorry Amanda, but there's nothing left. I love Betty."

Amanda couldn't control the tears that were now streaming from her eyes.

Her vision blurred and her other sense dulled by the copious amounts of alcohol she had consumed, she managed to grab her coat and purse and stagger towards the door. Daniel followed Amanda out.

"I'm sorry," he said again.

"Don't forget to take the salmon and asparagus out of the oven," was her only reply.

As she walked down the hall she ran into Betty. She had changed from her work clothes and Amanda hated to admit it, but she looked almost cute in her suede pumps and green wrap-dress.

"Hi," Betty said affably, but Amanda ignored her friendly greeting choosing rather to continue towards the elevator.

"Is she okay?" she heard Betty ask as she approached Daniel, still standing in the doorway.

"She'll be okay," he replied almost guiltily.

Amanda watched as Daniel pulled Betty into an intimate embrace. She didn't think her heart could break into any more pieces than it already had. This wasn't fair, she told herself. They didn't deserve to be so happy. Before she stepped into the elevator she removed her cellular phone and snapped a few hurried pictures of the two lovers.

Once inside she pressed 1 on her speed dial. She needed comfort, she wanted revenge.

"Mark," she said into the phone. "Call Willhemina, I've got something I think she'd like to see."


End file.
